Harry Potter and the Flaming Soul
by Cboo09
Summary: The seventh installment in the Harry Potter series. Harry prepares to face his destined foe, works through his grief, and comes to terms with growing up. Ron finds himself lost in the daily grind, and Hermione finds an unexpected friend.
1. An Awkward Moment

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**Title: Harry Potter and the Flaming Soul **

**(Unfortunately, I have no title-writing skills, sorry about that.)**

**Rating: M (Just to be on the safe side because there are some slightly Mature themes)**

**Summary: Book 7 as I see it, with a twist: there are more perspectives than just Harry's**

**A/N: This is my first foray into fanfics for a while … as opposed to actually sending stuff to publishers… I sincerely hope you are kinder than them . But seriously R&R, and tear into it if you must (I won't be offended, I've developed a thick skin!)

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Harry waited outside the Burrow, knowing the loud crack from his apparition would not go unnoticed for long. Sure enough, Mrs. Weasley stuck her head outside, holding her wand aloft with one hand and slowly opening the door with her free hand.

"Who's there?" she demanded.

"Just me!" yelled Harry.

Mrs. Weasley spotted him and smiled widely, running forward to pull him into a tight hug. Her forgotten wand had fallen to their feet.

She stood back to scrutinize Harry, "Harry, you're so…" she could not honestly say that Harry was skinny, for he had followed Hermione's advice and trained with her both physically and magically in Godric's Hollow. His arms were, for the first time in his life, corded and strong, and his face had hardened and matured. He pulled Mrs. Weasley into a hug that could only be exchanged between a mother and son, and she pulled him back to her.

"You're so… lean!" she exclaimed, picking up her wand, and began to pull him toward the rickety house.

Harry nearly tripped over Crookshanks as he chased a group of gnomes through the garden.

"Oh, just wait until you see them all – they'll be so excited – Bill – who's doing better now, Charlie, Fred and George were all able to come and then of course Hermione, but I daresay you already knew she was here, having spent the summer with her already!" Mrs. Weasley fussed, and Harry flushed automatically.

"We… we… just, trained-" but Mrs. Weasley cut him off, saying, "Of course, dear," and pulling him into the messy kitchen.

Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ginny, Ron and Hermione all sat around the magically expanded table in their pajamas. George had a piece of sausage halfway to his mouth when he stopped, stunned at Harry's arrival. They all sat in shocked silence for a moment before settling into a relaxed and happy mood at seeing Harry.

"Ay Arry, ow ah yah?" Bill managed through a mouthful of pancakes. His face was scarred, and he seemed to have a snout rather than a nose, but he was normal otherwise.

"Alright," Harry responded, grabbing a plate and loading it with sausages, eggs, and pancakes.

Hermione had grabbed Ron's hand and towed him away from Harry, awkwardly avoiding Harry's glance in her direction.

Ron ripped his hand away from her and muttered, "Are you insane? He's my best mate!" He dragged her back to Harry, where she gave him a shy smile.

Ron patted Harry's shoulder and asked, "How long are you here for?"

Harry thought for a moment and responded, "At least until term starts for you two… but, let's not talk about that now."

Ron nodded, "Alright, then, are you really going to eat all that sausage?"

Harry grinned. "Yes," he replied simply.

* * *

Harry navigated through the sleeping bags to Ron's bed, where he sat comfortably until he noticed the expressions on Hermione and Ron's faces.

"Look, I'm not about to jump up and fly out the window, I'm still trying to figure out where all the horcruxes are!" he confirmed, but they did not seem convinced. "If I say I'm staying, then I'm staying!" He could feel the anger building up within him, why didn't they trust him?

Ron started, "It's just that you have a tendency to… er… fly off the handle a bit-"

Harry grimaced and interrupted, "Fly off the handle! This is Voldemort we're talking about, I'm not an idiot - I'm not going to run off thinking I can get him! If Dumbledore were –" Harry's heart clenched as he thought of Dumbledore, it had been his own fault.

"Harry…" Hermione approached him; momentarily forgetting her embarrassment, "You know we care about you, we don't do this to make you angry," she stopped for a moment, looking into his emerald eyes. She added in an undertone, "And it's not your fault Dumbledore is gone, don't blame yourself, you've got enough to worry about right now."

She grabbed him in a comforting hug and he pushed her away, much to the discontent of the beast within his chest.

"I know, but I'm not going to run off, you have to believe me," He said.

She thought about this for a moment then asked, "So what _is _your plan?"

Ron looked with concern at his best friend, "Yeah, you can tell us, we're your best mates, you know."

Harry smiled, "Yeah, you are my best mates…"

He had spent a lot of time considering his options, and had decided that he would be able to destroy Voldemort's horcruxes without alerting him to it.

"Well, since I don't think Voldemort-" Ron shivered, "will notice when I destroy a horcrux, I thought I ought to be very careful and let everyone assume I'm going back to Hogwarts, so he won't be tipped off… but I think… I think I won't stay away for my whole seventh year…" he paused for a moment, then continued, "And I have to find where the horcruxes are first, so I am going to get some advice from you, Hermione, on what you've read about Hogwarts history… Could he have something from Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?"

Hermione offered a few ideas, then stopped and looked expectantly back at Harry.

"Well, they'll be more time for that, but I was going to search out some people to give me memories. I thought I might be able to find some clues in Borgin and Bukes… and, well, destroy the horcruxes. But I don't think I'm ready to face Voldemort yet…" he trailed off, looking in the other direction. They were all silent for a moment, enveloped in their own thoughts.

Ron was the first to speak, "Well it sounds like a good plan." Hermione nodded her approval.

They all yelled as a sound like a cannon bang went off in the far corner of the room, along with a puff of smoke. Fred and George stepped out of the quickly dissipating purple smoke and smirked widely at the three of them.

"Well, what have we got here, George?" Fred asked.

"I believe we've got a slacker. Doesn't Ickle Ronnekins know that we won't tolerate that? Mummy wouldn't have us de-gnome the garden alone!"

Fred and George grinned wickedly at Ron, who sighed, "Alright, I'm coming!" They turned to leave the room, but not before George looked to Harry and Hermione and said, "I'm glad you enjoyed our latest invention – apparition in a bottle!"

Harry chuckled heartily and was certainly appreciative that he had not been recruited to de-gnome the garden. He looked toward Hermione, slightly hot in the face. Their momentary understanding had been replaced by uncomfortable embarrassment. Hermione had grabbed a book from beside the bed and was buried in it. Harry decided it was best to avoid an awkward conversation by acting normally.

"Hermione, I know we've talked about the plan for finding the other horcruxes, but what about the locket? How will we know when it has been destroyed?" Harry asked, genuinely concerned.

It was something that had weighed on his mind since he had found the note. Hermione closed the book with a sudden gesture, as if she were irritated. Harry couldn't think of a reason for her to be mad.

"Harry," she said suddenly, "I think you know very well that you are magically prepared to destroy Voldemort – or at least his horcruxes – but are you really ready emotionally and mentally?"

Harry considered this for some time before he asked, "What do you mean? I'm angry at him, so I want to kill him… and I've been taught that that is the right thing for me to do."

Hermione sighed and said, "Sometimes you are so clueless, Harry," and at the affronted look on his face she added, "Well you have never become much of an Occulmens," Harry agreed with a quick nod, realizing the usefulness of Occulmency, "And Dumbledore always said that your advantage over Voldemort was _love_," she said emphatically.

Harry smiled despite himself and said, "Well we know a little about _that_!" and winked at her.

Hermione's delicate white skin turned a deep shade of purple as she said, "Harry, let's not talk about _that_."

Harry's face felt unusually warm as he said, "About _that_, Hermione… I…" he paused, looking for reassurance.

She smiled and came to sit on the bed with him. "Harry, we were in Godric's Hollow and we had spent so much time together…" the beast in Harry chest purred with delight, "and Ron… he-"

Harry interrupted her, "I know he had to be here, and you and I-" he trailed off, remembering the unnatural, self-conscious night. 'But it wasn't _bad_,' he thought to himself.

He looked Hermione in the eyes, "I know, I broke up with Ginny for the same reason, and Ron… would skin me alive," the beast in his chest was growling in irritation.

Hermione grinned. "Well, Harry, it was… _magical_," she stopped for effect and they both laughed.

Harry looked at her, loving the way she laughed and the beast in his chest calmed.

"Hermione," he added sincerely, "I will always love you as a wonderful friend." A tear glistened in his eye, and they embraced, holding onto the moment.

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	2. It's His Battle To Fight

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**Title: Harry Potter and the Flaming Soul**

**(Unfortunately, I have no title-writing skills, sorry about that.)**

**Rating: M (Just to be on the safe side because there are some slightly Mature themes)**

**Summary: Book 7 as I see it, with a twist: there are more perspectives than just Harry's**

**A/N: Okay, this would be Chapter 2. Have you made it this far? I have some really cool ideas that will take some time to work in, so bear with me. Pur-lease review. I like feedback on my stuff. Also, I am considering staff for my new C2. More about that later, though, for now R&R.

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Harry awoke with a start, sweat dripping from his brow. For several seconds, he couldn't tell where he was, but as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw a mane of bushy hair above him on the bed and a general orange haze from Ron's walls. He tried to remember the dream. He had not been in Voldemort's mind, hen knew that much, but he distinctly remembered Snape's looming face. Harry's blood boiled at the thought of Snape, but as the dream dissipated, so did his rage.

He turned to the bed and watched the rise and fall of the orange comforter as Hermione slept. Harry smiled – it seemed funny that Mrs. Weasley had allowed the three of them to sleep in the same room. However, he thought, she has been pretty frazzled lately. Harry contemplated on his new relationship with Hermione for a moment. He knew that their romance had ended with Hermione's departure from Godric's Hollow, but he couldn't simply place himself in a role of friend with her. He decided it was best that he ignored his feelings for both Hermione and Ginny until he had decided what path he would take.

It had seemed so simple to go to Godric's Hollow and train for his imminent departure, but finding and destroying horcruxes was another matter. He felt lost without Ron's support and Hermione's smarts, but he had decided that he wasn't willing to risk them. Somehow, everything that he had felt in the past two months had compounded into anxiety over the fake horcrux and finding R.A.B. Harry sighed, deciding that he had worried enough for the night. With that, he rolled over, intending to go back to sleep, but something was wrong. There was no flaming bed-head sticking out of the sleeping bag beside him.

Harry carefully stood, trying not to rustle his sleeping bag. He crept out of the room, and found Ron sitting on the stairs outside the door.

"Hey," Harry said. Ron jumped, but looked too expectant to be bothered. He nodded his head slowly to acknowledge Harry.

"What's wrong, mate?" Harry asked, sitting beside Ron on the step. Ron looked at him wearily. His face was pale and slightly green. His eyebrows were raised in a look of extreme distress, and he had a guilty look in his eyes.

"I… Harry… I'm… waiting up for Fleur," he admitted. Harry was thrown into bewilderment.

"Fleur?" he said incredulously, "What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Ron sighed, "She just… puts a spell on me, you know." Harry looked sympathetically at his best friend, hoping Ron hadn't followed through on his feelings for Fleur. Harry was lost in thought, remembering Stan Shunpike's bragging that he was the future Minister of Magic to a veela in the forest at the quidditch world cup.

Ron filled the awkward void between them by explaining Fleur's absence, "… so she's been going in between the Leaky Cauldron and Gringott's and here… mum's been nutty with her – they bonded over Bill, y'know – and we still dunno when the wedding's gonna be."

Harry nodded and said, "So… you've just…" he dawdled purposely, not wanting to ask the question in his mind. He wondered what would happen if Fleur had allowed any advances on Ron's part.

He decided to be blunt, "But… but you haven't _done _anything with-" Harry stopped cautiously, observing the look on Ron's face. Hermione had problems enough with her relationship with Ron because of Harry. He tried to hide his guilt, and hoped Ron would never find out that Harry had had a romantic relationship with Hermione. He imagined Ron's reaction to finding out, and he thought there would be a few jinxes involved.

Ron looked horrified, and answered, "I just… don't think it's right for me to wait up to hear her voice… when… when I'm Hermione's –" he stopped, embarrassed, not wanting to say the next word.

Harry interrupted Ron with a relieved laugh, Ron was only feeling guilty because he had a crush. He considered for a moment before exclaiming, "Don't worry about it, she's a _veela_! Who _could_ resist her?" Ron looked doubtful, so Harry added, "And I know that Hermione really lov-" Harry stopped. He was going to say 'love's you,' but reconsidered, thinking of the expression on Hermione's face had she known.

"She wouldn't really care much," Harry finished, hoping he had convinced Ron.

To his relief, Ron smiled and nodded slowly, "Yeah. Who would mind when they've got _this_?" he jabbed his thumbs toward his chest.

Harry grinned automatically at Ron's inflated ego, stood, and grabbed Ron by the arms, roughly pulling him up. "C'mon Ron, let's go to bed – your girlfriend's in that room, y'know."

* * *

The next morning Fleur pranced into the room in her usual form, drawing the curtains with relish.

"Eet eez a beautiful morneen," she smiled at the room in general, saying, "Eet eez ze most beautiful… how you say? … Ah yes, garden for ze wedding reception!"

Ron grinned timidly and Hermione groaned. Fleur stood at the window, her plaited blond hair glimmering in the morning light. She seemed misled as to where Ron was staring, because she beamed at him, flipped her hair, and said, "You like zis…? Your muzzer did zis for me…"

Ginny poked her head in the door, her hair swinging and catching in the door hinge.

"Hey – oowww!" she screamed, trying to pull her hair out. Fleur ran to Ginny, pulling her hair ruthlessly.

"Oooww! Ooow! Stop! Stop it! STOP HELPING!" she screamed, pushing Fleur out of the way roughly and slipping her hair out of the hinge with dexterous hands. Fleur didn't seem very bothered, however, as she continued to bound about. Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry and made a rude gesture as her mother walked in.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley squealed, appalled. She gave Ginny a threatening glance, then turned to Fleur.

"Fleur, don't mind Ginny, she's just…" she threw a look of disdain at Ginny, and strolled to Fleur, changing the topic, "Anyway, have we finally decided on next Tuesday? I found some lovely things in the attic that we could use to spruce up the garden a bit!"

She began stroking Fleur's plait absentmindedly, intermittently describing ornaments to add to the garden for the wedding.

Fleur turned to Mrs. Weasley, seeming mildly surprised. "Ze wedding will be _here?_" she asked, disbelieving.

Mrs. Weasley looked taken aback, "But… but, I thought…" she stuttered.

Fleur put her hands on her hips in a very Mrs. Weasley-ish way, and pronounced, "Ze wedding will be at my home, Bill and I have decided – eet eez tradition!"

Mrs. Weasley seemed very affronted, but simply asked, "But… what about our garden? Our plans?"

Fleur looked disapprovingly at the scruffy garden below. "As eef I would want my wedding _here!_ Eet eez so messy!" Hermione and Ginny had matching sour frowns.

Ginny whispered all to loudly, "I liked it better when mum hated phlegm."

Mrs. Weasley turned a brilliant shade of magenta and bustled out of the room, grabbing the hamper and spewing dirty laundry across the floor.

Fleur smiled, unaware of the conflict she had just incited.

Ginny growled, "Was there something you wanted, Ph- _Fleur?_'

Fleur turned to Ginny and gushed, "Ah yes, I have been wanting to tell you all, eet eez wonderful to be here with you – and 'Arry eez een such fine shape, Garbrielle will be so pleased."

She swooped down on Ginny, planting a light kiss on her cheek, which Ginny promptly wiped off with her forearm. Harry blushed, but before he could stop her, Fleur swept him into a tight hug and kissed him as well. She left the room with her arms aloft, looking ridiculously like an albino phoenix attempting to take off.

Ron's head hung limply, but he quickly looked back up as Hermione tutted, "I suppose you wished I did _that?_"

Ron looked confused, so Hermione elaborated, "I expect you don't think that I hope someday to look like a blond hippogriff with a flying problem…" Harry laughed despite himself and Ginny chuckled.

Harry whipped his eyes to Ginny, desire burning in his chest. _Take her_, the beast in his chest purred, _it will be fine_, _now you have experience. _He resisted the impulse to grab her around the waist and turned his attention to Hermione.

"Look, Hermione, you don't get it – veela are… well, they're…" Try though he might, he couldn't describe the magic that veela held.

"Objects of desire? Lust…? What is it Harry, which turns men into a puddle of drool when a pretty girl walks in the room? Sometimes you guys are such a jerks," she turned to Ginny, who shook her head and added, "Men."

* * *

Harry forgot himself over the next few days. Being at the Burrow lifted all his worries. He seemed almost okay with Dumbledore's death and the task ahead. He spent much of his time in the village with the twins and Ron, scoping out the local girls. He found that he got more attention than he had expected, resulting in Ron keeping a constant stream of comments as to how he needed to bulk up like Harry. Harry was grateful for the opportunity to get out, but felt guilty, knowing he was doing something he had been strictly forbidden to do last year by Dumbledore.

On one particular occasion, Harry found himself in a deep conversation with a pretty blonde girl by the name of Dalia who worked at the flower shop. Fred and George were busy in the local magic shop showing off their 'special skills', and Ron had stopped at the pub to pick up drinks for everyone.

"Oh, Harry, I've never met a boy quite like you – you're so different!" Dalia gushed.

Harry smiled, "I don't know, sometimes it would be nice to be the same."

"No, it's wonderful that you're so different, it's… exciting, especially for a small-town girl like me." She added with faint regret in her voice.

He felt self-conscious, not knowing how to handle her open flattery and full attention. Girls were always a mystery to Harry. He grinned at her and realized how wonderful it was to not be identified as 'the boy who lived' or 'the chosen one'. With this naive muggle girl, Harry was just Harry.

"Well, sometimes it's a pain to be different, it would be nice to not be recognized as special, but I guess it comes with the job."

He realized that she was staring at him, and hadn't really registered what he had said. He stood for a moment, enjoying the sycophancy.

Suddenly, Harry was aware of his sneakascope, which was whirling in his pocket and whistling faintly despite his attempts to muffle the sound. Dalia was looking curiously at his coat pocket where the sneakascope was concealed. Harry panicked. What could he do, under the nose of this muggle, to defend himself? To his relief, Fred and George walked in holding trick cans of nuts. Harry smirked, deciding to play into their plan.

George held out the can and asked casually, "Would you like some walnuts, Harry?"

"Sure, George," he responded, opening the can with a grin.

To his surprise, the spring snakes inside were a little more lively than the traditional muggle joke. They shot out of the can and bounced off the walls for a full minute before they dropped to the floor.

A look of shock registered on Dalia's face. "How did you do that… it's almost like –"

"… Magic?" Fred volunteered, chuckling under his breath.

"Yeah…" she responded.

"Well, you can keep this one," Fred answered her awed reaction, tossing her the can he held in his hand, "C'mon, Harry, we've got to meet Ron, I don't think it takes to long to pick up drinks." He winked at Dalia and Harry gave her a passing smile as they ambled out the door.

* * *

The knut clinked lightly as it dropped onto the stone floor of the Weasley's kitchen. Harry flicked his wand absentmindedly and the knut flipped again. Bill sat across the table from Ron and Harry, poring over The Daily Prophet.

"Hmm, possible Death Eater sightings in London… Draco, I presume."

Harry awoke from his reverie, "Draco Malfoy? I thought he'd be dead by now," he said maliciously.

Bill folded the paper and looked acutely at Harry. "Well, we no longer have spies in You-Know-Who's inner circle, but it's fair to assume that You-Know-Who would keep Draco around at least until Lucius has returned to him – we think that he has given him an assignment with Fenrir Greyback," Bill snarled the name of his attacker, further disfiguring his scarred face, "Lupin has seen him."

Harry smiled, thinking of a disheveled Malfoy sitting underground with the repulsive werewolf. He remembered Malfoy's distaste for the putrid man; he had said that he had arrived uninvited the night of Dumbledore's death. Harry noticed with some surprise that he had not been as disturbed this time by his own thoughts of that night.

Ron interrupted Harry's thoughts, asking, "Why would You-Know-Who keep Malfoy around, waiting for his father?"

"To do something horrible to the both of them, I think. Anyway, enough of this, this will be my only vacation from this all for a long time – I leave on Wednesday with Fleur," Bill retorted.

Harry smirked, "No _Honeymoon_?" he asked sarcastically.

Bill sighed audibly, "No Honeymoon."

Bill looked sorrowful for a moment, stroking his dragon-fang earring thoughtfully. His face was heavily scarred, but Harry thought he had come out looking pretty good for someone who was attacked by a werewolf. His nose was snout-like, but intact, as were his eyes. The deepest gash cut his face into two distinct parts, and ran from his right ear to the bottom of his left cheek, leaving a split bottom lip in its wake. Bill's forehead and cheeks were covered in grazes, but they didn't deter from the handsome smile he flashed at Fleur as she glided into the room.

Bill turned so Fleur could sit in his lap, and she ran her delicate fingers through his hair. Harry turned to Ron to find him looking sickly green.

Harry suppressed a snort, and Fleur asked, "Zat School of yours –Hogwartz – eez it open for zis semester?"

To Harry's surprise, Ron swallowed heavily and answered, "McGonagall has opened it, yeah." He lost his nerve and began to address Bill instead, "We didn't think she would, but y'know, Hogwarts always seems open – I dunno how she found teachers, though – Slughorn bailed as soon as he could," then he added bitingly, "and obviously we got rid of Snape."

Bill nodded and said, "Yeah, I figured McGonagall might open Hogwarts up again – she's a tough old broad." He looked inquisitively at Harry, saying, "But you're not going back, are you? Dad told me about your plans."

Harry nodded, but before he could reply, Ron added, "Yeah, and the idiot won't let Hermione or me come along. I never did get that one, Harry." Harry felt affronted.

Bill said wisely, "Don't bug him to much, lil' bro, it is _his _battle to fight."

Harry gave Bill a grateful nod of acknowledgement, and turned to Ron. "I don't know why you and Hermione have to go on like that… it's just, I can't be responsible for anyone else's," he paused awkwardly, "– _deaths_."

Ron looked rather mournful at Harry's reaction, as though he expected it but hoped it wouldn't come. "I dunno, Harry, Hermione keeps saying that's what you want, but I don't think it's right. I'm your best mate, and I can't let you chase Vo-… You-Know-Who alone!" he said very quickly.

Bill smiled knowingly and pulled Fleur into the sitting room, giving her soft kisses on her forehead as they sat down out of earshot.

Harry was frustrated with Ron, but not very surprised. He looked at the stagnant frown on Ron's freckled face, and sighed, trying to control his anger. "Look, Ron, you've got to know that there's a good chance you could die out there – and I can't deal with that. Besides, you and Hermione can't get jobs after… after… I do what I'm going to… on being my friend alone. I know you helped me enough times to be important, but next to me, well… it'd be hard to compete with 'the boy who killed' or whatever the idiots at the Daily Prophet are calling me now."

Unfortunately, Harry's speech did not have the intended effect on Ron. He was positively red in the face, and he seemed to be holding back his fury despite his screaming, "YEAH, I BET IT WILL BE HARD TO COMPETE, CUZ IT'S NOT LIKE I'VE DONE ANYTHING TO HELP YOU EVER! YOU JUST DON'T WANT ME STEALING YOUR THUNDER, IS THAT IT?"

Harry could no longer hold back, "OH YEAH, RON, IT'S NOT THAT I DON'T WANT YOU TO DIE, I JUST WANT TO BE KNOWN FOR BEING AN ORPHAN WHO HAD TO SEE AND DO HORRIBLE THINGS! DO YOU THINK I _WANT_ TO BE A MURDERER? I'M JUST SO EXCITED THAT I GET TO TRY TO DESTROY THE MOST POWERFUL WIZARD IN THE WORLD AND HIS LACKEYS!" Harry panted, he had wanted to say it for so long, but it was hard to make it all come out. He was terrified by the idea of having to kill Voldemort.

Ron looked furious, but he didn't continue to yell. He stood suddenly and slammed his chair under the table. He turned and stormed up the stairs, slapping the walls as he climbed.

Bill strolled into the kitchen. "I think you could have handled that better, Harry," he said.

Harry's anger was building again, but he glimpsed the bemused smile on Bill's face. He smiled back, slightly embarrassed at his inability to curb his outbreak.

Fleur entered the room with an out-of-place grin on her face. "Well, zat was strange, I have never zeen Harry Potter angry. Perhaps you should apologize to your… Weasley," she cooed and grabbed Bill forcefully, though he didn't seem very upset.

Ginny poked her head around the corner, "Had a fight, Harry?"

Harry was too busy fighting down both his desire for Ginny and his anger at being made fun of to respond.

Bill answered for Harry, "Yeah, but our brother will survive the wrath of 'the chosen one' for now…"

Harry turned, wondering if Bill suspected that he was the chosen one. His suspicions were dismissed, though, because he heard Bill mutter, "… load of baloney if you ask me…"

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I'm starting a C2, so I have to build up a base of stories, but just so you can be considering it- I'm looking for HP purists (see my prof.). But that may be a long time coming, so just think about it. And _Please_ Review. Thanks and lurvs to all of ya.**


	3. A Dark Night for Draco

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**Title: Harry Potter and the Flaming Soul**

**(Unfortunately, I have no title-writing skills, sorry about that.)**

**Rating: M (Just to be on the safe side because there are some slightly Mature themes)**

**Summary: Book 7 as I see it, with a twist: there are more perspectives than just Harry's**

**A/N: CH 3! Thank you for the reviews, and I hope you'll review some more! This is a little different, so you can get some perspective as to what is happening with Voldemort (happy and carefree can't last forever!). Very short, I know, but there is more to come. So enjoy, and review…

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**

The anxious expectancy was palpable as the death eaters waited for their master to speak. Voldemort's expression spoke of pure loathing, but his distorted smile did not falter as Lucius Malfoy entered the room, followed by his wife and son. The room was comfortable and a warm fire blazed in the grate, but the air was chilled by the unbridled rage of the dark lord. Bellatrix, who had waited for over a month in the strange town of Little Hangleton for this moment, not knowing what was to come, gasped as her sister entered. She fell to the ground, twitching and screaming, as Voldemort's wand flicked lazily above her.

"Dear Bellatrix," he spoke scathingly, "If you were truly my favorite, as you tell your fellow death eaters, you would know this moment was coming."

She rose, still twitching slightly, as he relinquished his hold on her and kissed the hem of his robes. "Forgive me, master, I have done wrong."

Voldemort's smile stretched across his waxy, white face. Lucius did not look to his master's face, but at his own feet. His skin was pallid and he had a hollowed look about him.

"Lucius, Azkaban has not been good to you… but I digress, for Azkaban was no payment for your mistake."

Lucius looked up, fear etched in every wrinkle of his lined face. He pleaded, "Master, forgive me! Dumbledore was –"

Voldemort interrupted, his reddened eyes blazing, "Dumbledore is dead, at last, but your _dear _son has failed to bring this about…" he stopped for a moment, twirling his wand between his fingers deftly, "And Narcissa," he spat, turning to her cowering form, "has betrayed my trust, and partly made payment for her mistake… but my trust is something that is not so easily forgiven."

Narcissa looked up with fear, trying to defend her actions, "Master, Snape knew of the plan… he made the unbreakable vow for Draco's sake…"

Voldemort swept his wand arm down upon her. She lay on the floor, her eyes closed, but moving rapidly under her taut eyelids. She screamed, "NO… NO… NOT DRACO," apparently in a horrible nightmare. She clawed at the ground with her long, white fingers and tossed her whole body back and forth, fighting against the terror that consumed her. After a few moments, her eyes opened, and she rushed to Voldemort's feet, kissing the hem of his robes, as was custom among the death eaters.

Draco's normally elegant hair hung in filthy ropes, which he tried to push out of his face. His movement caught Voldemort's attention.

"Draco… I have not forgotten you; I suppose you've enjoyed your latest assignment? Perhaps convincing Fenrir to not tear at your throat has been pressing you?" he spoke derisively. "You will be punished, but it will not be I who does the punishing this time… perhaps your father," his attention turned to Lucius, whose eyes were wide with shock.

"I… what… I couldn't –" he started, but he was cut off by a blood-curdling stare from Voldemort.

"I, yes… of course, master," he finished lamely.

"A punishment carried out once already by your wife, I daresay… Crucio will suffice, Lucius," Voldemort laughed.

Regret lingered in Lucius' gaze as he turned to his terrified son. "Crucio," he exclaimed, not daring to attempt to spare Draco any pain. His son fell, breaking his leg on contact with the already bloody carpet. He twitched and groaned. Narcissa watched in horror as her son was tortured.

After a few agonizing minutes, Voldemort said, "That is adequate," and added nastily, "… for now." He turned to the waiting figures beside him and addressed them each with questions about their mission, then said, "Perhaps I will spare you, Lucius, but you haven't been useful as of yet," and he disapparated with a crack.

Bellatrix, who could no longer contain herself, ran to her sister's side crying maternally, "Cissy!" Snape caught her by the neck, choking her and entangling her in her death eater's robes.

"Perhaps," he started with a hiss, "You misunderstood your master."

Bellatrix tore herself from his grasp and slapped his face. "You are not my master… and you are lucky that it was you that killed Dumbledore, I still do not believe your allegiance to the dark lord."

Snape looked dumbstruck for a moment, but pulled himself together, "You, wouldn't, would you? Fortunately, it is not your belief that is important." He disapparated, leaving a thunderstruck Bellatrix behind. The death eaters fell silent, staring at Bellatrix.

Draco groaned, his leg was split in half, the bone protruding from his papery skin. Lucius used a spell to heal his son's leg, while his mother cradled his head near her breast.

Draco sat up slowly, rubbing his head. "I'm _fine _mother…" he yelled as she attempted to coddle him. He stared at his father's hollowed cheeks then tore his gaze away and said, "I've got to get back to… _Fenrir…_" Instead of disapparating, he limped to the rotting door, and then slowly, agonizingly crept through the house.

The death eaters listened until his uneven footsteps reached the garden before moving. Narcissa was crying silently in a corner, being held by her husband.

"You should all be ashamed – the dark lord has given us assignments!" Avery accused, followed by a thunder of disapparation cracks as the death eaters left.

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	4. A Row or Three

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**Title: Harry Potter and the Flaming Soul**

**(Unfortunately, I have no title-writing skills, sorry about that.)**

**Rating: M (Just to be on the safe side because there are some slightly Mature themes)**

**Summary: Book 7 as I see it, with a twist: there are more perspectives than just Harry's**

**A/N: Okay, here is Chapter 4. Finally. Sorry, really, things have been crazy round' here. I made it good an long for you guys :D. Ooooo… it's from Hermione's perspective. Lots of drama ...sigh... . Anyway, I hope you like it, and please review!

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Hermione tried, much to her frustration, to unite her friends, but they simply would not budge. Both Harry and Ron sat in Ron's room, irate, much like the flaming orange walls.

"You're both being stubborn idiots, you've fought this fight a million times before!" Ginny said, reprimanding them.

"Yes, you _have_ fought this fight before," Hermione added, "And you're best mates, don't let this happen again! Harry, you feel that you have to take on the burden of the world and that Ron should support you, and _Ron_, you feel like Harry wants to be the famous person he is and that he wants all the recognition."

Harry and Ron simultaneously turned away from each other, grunting their discontent. Hermione decided it was time for drastic measures.

"Ron, if you don't talk to Harry… I'm, I'm going to break up with you!" she threatened. Everyone turned to Hermione, forgetting the grudge in their shock.

"You… you wouldn't…" Ron stuttered.

Hermione grinned smugly, "I would. Now, tell Harry why you're mad, and Harry you do the same."

Ron turned to Harry and said slowly, "Look mate, you're being an owl-brain, I don't always get to…" he stopped, looking for reassurance. Hermione shot daggers at him with her eyes, so he continued, "… to be a hero, sometimes it would be nice to get noticed for the stuff I do."

Harry, who still seemed irked, turned to Ron reluctantly. "Do I really have to…?" he asked, looking to Ginny. Hermione frowned, how could he be such a jerk? Ginny gave Harry a piercing look and said, "Yes, you do!"

"Fine… Ron, I don't like being known for who I am. I can't help it it's not my fault!" he yelled. Hermione could see that he had exhausted most of his annoyance.

"Look, mate… I'm…." he started, being nudged by Ginny, "Sorry."

Hermione sighed in relief. At least he had said 'sorry'. She knew the fight would be taken up again later, but it mattered little now.

Harry turned to Hermione and Ginny, "We're square now, so… no one speaks of this again." Hermione laughed, and was joined by Ginny as they looked at the embarrassed faces of Harry and Ron. "Alright."

A yell from downstairs distracted them all. Ginny looked confused, "Who's going at it now? As if we haven't had enough rows for the day…"

Before long, they had all learned the nature of the fight downstairs, though. The screams were all to audible to not know who was involved. Fleur's screechy yell was very distinct, and she seemed to be getting the best of Mrs. Weasley.

Glad to be rid of the previous subject of discussion, Harry and Ron dived into discussing the developing fight.

"Dang," Ron whispered, "If only we could apparate out of here!" Harry nodded glumly.

They were trapped in Ron's bedroom with Ginny and Hermione while Fleur and Mrs. Weasley were fighting in the kitchen. The sounds of Fleur's shrieks mingled with the clanging of the pipes in the attic.

Ginny sighed, "The ghoul in the attic is at it again. He doesn't seem to like it much when there's yelling."

Ron looked up expectantly, saying, "Couldn't we just get under the invisibility cloak and…" Harry looked at him disbelievingly, "All _four _of us? It's not like we could just… sneak past them."

Hermione sat with her head in her hands, mulling over the relationship she had observed between Mrs. Weasley and Fleur in the short time she had been at the Burrow. It was completely mad, she thought. She stroked Crookshanks absentmindedly. After one moment of true emotional connection over Bill, Mrs. Weasley was trying to build a relationship. It was insane, but not unlike Mrs. Weasley to distort reality to the point that she thought of herself as a friend to an arrogant girl whom she had hated for a year's time. How could she have not expected this? It wouldn't be long before they would be dueling… or at least throwing things.

They all sat in silence, in stark contrast with Pidwidgeon and Hedwig, who were both trapped inside, hooting noisily and flitting around the ceiling.

Ginny grimaced at Ron, "You could let them out, couldn't you? Mum's not blocking the windows."

He scowled, but dragged himself off the floor, where the four of them sat, and ambled to the window where he allowed a blur of brown and a blur of white to shoot out the it. Crookshanks eyed the owls as they left and turned back to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, but grew bored with the motley group and began to yowl at the door.

"Crud, Hermione, can't you shut him up? Soon we'll have Phlegm and Mum _up here_ yelling…" Ron muttered.

Hermione threw Ron a dirty look, but pulled out her wand and swirled it in thin air, saying, "_Silencio_," and the disgruntled Crookshanks was immediately subdued.

Before long, a clang was heard from downstairs.

"What was _that?_" Ron inquired.

Hermione smirked, knowing she had been right about the increasing violence of the fight. "Sounds like a frying pan to me," she answered, turning to Ron.

"Geez," he replied, "They'll be dueling before long… shouldn't we try to stop them?"

Harry whipped out his wand, "Yeah, let's. Who knew that a wedding was such a big deal? I didn't realize they'd have a row."

Hermione put her hand on his wand arm, sending chills up her spine. Why does he do that to me? I don't like him anymore, she thought. We had a… well, passionate moment in Godric's Hollow, but that wasn't really because we like each other _that way_.

"No, Harry. Unless you want to have a flattened side of your head, you should let them work it out," Ginny replied wisely.

He nodded and slipped his wand back into his back jeans pocket, closing his eyes as if he were strengthening his resolve.

Seeing that Hermione eyed him momentarily he turned to her and said, "Moody warned me not to do that… he seemed to think I'd lose a buttock."

Ginny and Ron laughed uproariously, and a giggle escaped Hermione's pursed lips. It was obvious that Harry still had feelings for Ginny despite his resolution to stay away from her, as was demonstrated by his looking to her for affirmation during his row with Ron. Hermione was not so sure she still felt something for Harry, but if she found she did, she certainly wouldn't stare obliviously at him like he did at Ginny. Besides, she was dating Ron. It wasn't right to put him through this, and Harry needed his friends now.

Hermione was pulled out of her reverie by the halting silence downstairs. Ron was standing with his ear to the door.

He turned to them, asking, "Do you think it's safe now?"

Hermione pulled herself up, answering, "Well, safe or not, I'm bored out of my skull… let's see what they're up to."

As soon as she opened the door, Crookshanks darted out, giving her a scratch on the foot in his haste to get outside. She peered around the corner, hoping they hadn't decided to come upstairs. When it seemed that the coast was clear, she motioned for the others to follow her and crept down the stairs.

When they reached the bottom floor it was clear that both Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were still in the room. Fleur, usually elegant and regal in manner, was slumped over the table with her back to Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was peeling potatoes at a feverish rate; it was obvious that the potatoes sitting in the sink would be sufficient to feed an army.

Despite their best efforts, Mrs. Weasley immediately noticed the four teens creeping through the kitchen.

In an overly cheery tone, she loudly said, "Oh, there you are, dears! Why don't you help me… er… clean up the kitchen to get ready for dinner." She glanced warily at the frying pan that had flown through the window, and the ladle that lay broken on a chair opposite Fleur.

Hermione looked to Ginny, who looked utterly shocked. Her mouth was hanging open as she stared at her mother, gauging how the damage had been done. Thankfully, Harry had the sense to tap her on the shoulder before Mrs. Weasley noticed.

He whispered something quickly in Ginny's ear, then pulled out his wand and muttered, "_Reparo!_" Immediately, the shards of glass that lay on the counter below the window flew back to their original place and melded together. Hermione whipped her wand out, repeating the spell and using the _Accio_ charm on the now whole ladle. Fleur stood, unusually dignified, and swept from the room so fast that Hermione first thought she had disapparated.

Ginny turned to her mother, saying soft, soothing words, and Ron began adhering peels back on the mound of potatoes that sat in the sink. Harry managed to clean the smashed potato off the wall behind where Fleur had previously been, and Mrs. Weasley seemed heartened. Hermione sighed, relieved that they had, at least temporarily, solved the problem.

Ginny spoke just loud enough that they could all hear her say, "Mum, that should help, we'll be back in time for dinner, okay?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded over-zealously, and chimed in a too-high voice, "You lot go ahead, I'll take care of dinner…"

Hermione felt guilty as they slipped out into the yard, but pushed down the feeling as she realized she had no idea what they were _doing_ now that they had gotten away. Her unasked question was soon answered as Ginny appeared at the back of the house, four brooms in hand, and tossed one to each of them. Hermione caught her broom with reluctance; she had never liked flying. However, she knew none of her friends could be deterred when Quidditch was involved.

"All right, Ginny and Hermione versus Ron and Me," Harry yelled, already on his broom.

Hermione realized she had been staring blatantly at Harry's heavily muscled arms that were flexing as her twisted his broom to face her.

He grinned at her, "Are you getting on, or are you just going to watch?"

She was being teased, but strangely, she didn't mind. Slowly, as if her body wasn't connected to her mind, she flopped over the broom and pulled it upwards. She sat in the air, watching Ron and Harry huddle together on the other side of the yard. Ginny nudged her, and then began discussing strategy. Hermione easily tuned it out, and chided herself for looking at Harry that way. Before she knew it, Ginny had clapped her hands and flew off. _Oh crap, _Hermione thought, _What am I supposed to be doing?_ She flew forward, trying to sit between the positions of keeper and chaser.

Ginny turned and yelled, "Go back to the trees, you can't keep from there!"

_Thank Goodness, she doesn't know I was ignoring her, _Hermione thought. She drifted back until she sat squarely between the trees they were using as goal posts. She hoped that they wouldn't be playing as roughly as usual.

Hermione didn't think she was a very good keeper, but her confidence boosted as she blocked more than half of Harry's attempts at the goal. Ron wasn't doing nearly so well. She flashed him a smug smile and grinned even more widely when he looked back at her with disgruntled anger in his eyes. She could rub this in before they all went to bed. Ginny was making goals all over the place, and though she normally wouldn't have cared (because her team normally lost), Hermione began to like the feeling of winning at Quidditch.

Hermione wondered vaguely if she might get on the Gryffindor quidditch team, as well as things were going today. Her sensible side would have normally have quashed the idea, after all she _hated_ flying; but she was enjoying sense of self that winning was giving her. She was trying to imagine herself in Gryffindor quidditch robes, standing beside a grinning Harry who was holding the snitch; when the real Harry came barreling towards her, watching Ginny's pursuit of him, and not paying attention at all. _Smack!_

Hermione fell clumsily off her broom and smashed into the ground as Harry managed to pull up just in time. Hermione felt lips against her forehead, and opening her eyes blearily, noticed that Ron was at her side even before Ginny, who had witnessed the whole event.

"Hermione," he said tenderly, "Are you okay? What can I do?" And, turning to Harry, he pulled out his wand. He was particularly red in the face.

"What did you mean by that, you clout? I should hex you until you can't walk!" Ron yelled, then turned to Hermione and plucked her from the ground. He rushed towards the house, concern etched on his face.

Hermione caught a last glimpse of Harry's confused, upset expression before the world turned black.

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**A/N: All right! That was it, finally. I don't know quite what the next chappie is yet, but don't you worry, I will post it soon (and I'm not lying!). Please review, and tell me what about it you liked/didn't like. I love writing Hermione, because she's so… well, naïve, honestly. Lotsa luv!**


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